Just funny, endearing scenes, like his friends splashing around on the brick porch of his house in Dogtown after his mother rolled blankets to seal the stairway and filled the porch with three feet of water to improvise a pool. There’s no subtext, no finger-pointing or grudges, no maudlin analysis or rationalization. It all goes into Mike Peters’ whimsical, dyslexic, Pulitzer Prize–winning brain, and a few days later, a bell goes off, the brain whirs, and out comes a picture, drawn in heavy, sure black lines and sealed with a few clever words that stop people all over the world and make them laugh aloud. Texting, abortion, Iraq, nuclear power, fire hydrants, Romulus and Remus, agnosticism, and the pop-up button on a frozen turkey.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |